


Invasion! (The Pied Piper Corollary)

by kitkatt0430



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU if only because this show lacks an adequate amount of Hartley Rathaway, Dr. Tina McGee is the most awesome of all bosses., Invasion! Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe), M/M, Or the Rogues for that matter., What was Hartley up to while aliens attacked?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatt0430/pseuds/kitkatt0430
Summary: There were aliens crawling the streets of Central City. This did nothing to improve on Hartley's recovery from the cold that had just about flattened him earlier that week and he was considering leaving Cisco a strongly worded message about not warning him there were going to be god-dammed aliens attacking their city.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little fuzzy on how many days actually pass during the Invasion! Trilogy, but since Cisco and Hartley still haven't hooked up on the show, let's just call the whole story mildly AU and ignore any timeline inconsistencies.

When the aliens crash-landed in downtown Central City, Hartley didn't think anything of it. As far as he knew, it was a meteor. If there was anything he needed to worry about, Cisco would tell him… right?

Besides, Hartley was in bed most of that day with just high enough of a temperature to qualify for a fever and the exhaustion of several weeks of on-again off-again insomnia crashing down on him. There was no way he was going to be checking out that meteor even if he had been well enough to be curious. He did get a call from Cisco not long after the meteor landing, but Hartley was out of it at the time and the exact words exchanged were kind of fuzzy in his memories. Cisco had been trying to get Hartley to come down to STAR Labs at first, but that hadn't lasted beyond Hartley telling Cisco that all he could contribute at the moment was his cold because his concentration was shot, which is why he was curled up in about half-a-dozen blankets on his couch with one of the _Harry Potter_ movies on (he'd put in the DVD, but had no idea which one it was... and that was even after he'd been staring blankly at the screen for an hour).

Cisco had immediately shifted gears, asking him if he needed anything because Cisco totally didn't mind bringing him soup or power drinks or medicine if he needed it. Hartley assured the worried engineer that he had enough to last him and that it really was just a cold so he'd probably be better tomorrow… or at least well enough to head back into work with some throat lozenges to fortify him. Besides, it had sounded like there was some sort of emergency going on and he hadn't wanted to be a distraction.

There had definitely been zero mentions of aliens, though. Hartley would have remembered that. He'd have probably made a joke about it, just to hear Cisco laugh. There hadn't been a whole lot of laughter in Cisco since Dante's death, especially with his on-again, off-again argument with Barry being back on once more. Or Hartley might've gone in to STAR Labs anyway and used a dust mask to keep his germs to himself.

Instead, Hartley stayed home, slept, and felt well-enough to head into work at Mercury Labs the next day, just as he'd predicted. The morning after that, the President was dead.

Hartley spent most of the day calling Cisco and getting no answer, growing increasingly frustrated every time he had to tell Dr. McGee that, no, he hadn't been able to contact Team Flash yet. (The nice thing about having a boss who knew he occasionally moonlighted as back-up tech-support for super heroes was that she didn't get mad at him for ducking out of work to do so. The down side was that when he was already anxious about team Flash, her own worries piled on top of his own and made him about ten times more tense.) He ended up leaving work early that afternoon, intending to head to STAR Labs to find out just what the hell was going on – because, seriously, Cisco calls Hartley about an emergency and not even forty-eight hours the president is dead? There are no coincidences.

Unfortunately, Hartley found himself waylaid by Lisa Snart instead. She dragged him back to her place and shared with him a message left for her by Mick Rory. She hadn't heard from Rory since he stopped by to tell her that her brother had died a Legend – apparently he was very insistent about the terminology – and Lisa was kind of a mess over this, desperate not to be alone and to hear more from Mick than 'I'm back in 2016, will stop by if there's time'. So, Hartley found himself falling asleep on her couch that night (or, really, early the next morning) because, much like with Cisco all that morning and afternoon, there was no answer from Sara Lance or Ray Palmer, who were the only ones other than Mick that Lisa had phone numbers for.

Hartley got maybe four hours of sleep and nearly fell asleep in his office at work. Dr. McGee wanted an update, but all Hartley could really tell her was that the Legends were in town and that meant time-travel was most likely involved. They probably wouldn't hear from the STAR Labs team until everything was over.

He didn't mention the gloves in his work bag. She didn't need to know that he was planning for the worst case scenario… and, really, any scenario that involved him playing the part of the Pied Piper – even for the side of the heroes – was a worst case scenario. He also couldn't resist trying to call Cisco a few more times, but never bothering to leave any messages because if the sheer volume of missed calls at this point said 'I'm worried, call me back' just fine.

Then came the aliens.

There was screaming in the streets and Hartley didn't even bother to look outside before pulling on his gloves and priming them. He ran down the stairs to the lobby, saw an alien towering over Dr. McGee, and immediately blasted it back out the doors. It looked like one of the Redead from the _Ocarina of Time_ and Hartley had no doubt he was going to be having nightmares about this attack for weeks.

"Thank you, Mr. Rathaway," Dr. McGee said, standing up slowly and brushing herself off. Hartley didn't offer her a hand up, not with his gloves still primed for a fight.

"Keep everyone inside," he told her, ignoring the looks his co-workers were giving him and heading for the doors himself.

"Hartley," McGee called his attention back. "Be careful out there."

He nodded and walked out, knocking an alien out of his way – possibly the same one he'd tossed out the door minutes earlier, since he didn't see any others in the immediate vicinity – and then checked his phone for texts. There was one from Lisa; the Rogues were trying to meet at a location a few streets down and Hartley could feel free to join their metas (and honorary metas) versus alien fighting force, assuming he wasn't headed towards Team Flash instead.

The only place Hartley knew to look for Team Flash was STAR Labs and that was too far away to bother with on foot. The Rogues it was, then.

Still… it would've been nice to have had some sort of response from Cisco. Even just a 'sorry I didn't tell you there were aliens' would have been appreciated.

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos that was the Rogues vs Aliens beat down, the Flash zipped through tagging the aliens with… something. Not long after that, the aliens were just gone.

Hartley sent a text to Dr. McGee as he sat down on a random stoop – he had no idea where he was anymore because the fight had moved slowly across the city – and tried to catch his breath. _Aliens gone. Team Flash and allies did something. No idea what._

When he tried to leave, Lisa dragged him along to the Rogues after party and made it clear that if anyone tried to hurt Hartley because of his ties to Team Flash, she'd gild their faces. If they were lucky, she'd stick straws up their noses first so they could keep breathing.

Truth be told, Hartley sort of adored Lisa Snart for being the sort of friend who'd make those kind of threats for the sake of his safety. He still had no idea why she'd decided they were friends, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, the Rogue after party was weirdly awesome and there was plenty of hard root beer. (Which was bewildering because… hard root beer was the drink of choice by a group of hardened criminals with super powers? Really? Not that Hartley was going to complain, because he had a major sweet tooth and wasn't really fond of real beer. Which… huh… he'd never really noticed that until after becoming a meta. Maybe the sweet tooth was a meta side effect? Made as much sense as anything else he'd seen in the last twenty-four hours, anyway. He'd have to run the theory past Cisco at some point.)

He was almost finished with his first Damn Good Root Beer when his phone rang. Hartley slipped outside, checked the caller-id, and answered it with, "you could have told me there were aliens."

"You were sick," Cisco protested.

"I don't care if I've got pneumonia and am delusional. If there are aliens, you fucking tell me Cisco." Hartley let out a frustrated noise, adding, "you also really suck at answering calls."

"Hartley..."

"You called me about an emergency and then less than two days later the president is dead. I was worried about you." His mouth snapped shut because, yeah, he hadn't actually meant to admit that out loud. Just imply it, heavily, maybe guilt Cisco into promising to be better about checking his phone during a crisis.

"You were worried about me?" Cisco echoed, sounding amused.

"I may have joined up with the Rogues to fight the aliens and have been drinking at Lisa's 'yay the aliens didn't kill us' party," Hartley told him. Which, okay, he wasn't drunk, but he was blaming the slip on the alcohol anyway.

"You were fighting the Dominators?!" Now Cisco sounded worried. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Hartley assured him. "One of the aliens showed up at Mercury Labs and Dr. McGee let me leave to go fight them since I had my gloves on me. I got knocked around some, but the worst I've got are bruises. What about you?"

"I spent the fight in a time-traveling space ship trying to help stop an anti-meta-human bomb," Cisco replied quietly. "FIRESTORM transmuted it to water."

"I'm going to need you to explain all of that when I see you in person next," Hartley told him, because none of what Cisco had just told him made any sense whatsoever.

"Jax and Stein can transmute things into other things now," Cisco elaborated unhelpfully.

"That's a thing now?" Hartley couldn't quite stop himself, smiling again at Cisco's laugh. "Are you at STAR Labs?" Because if he was, Hartley would be ditching the party to check on how everyone was doing. Mostly Cisco, really, but… he liked the others well enough to be worried-ish for them too.

"No… we're, um… we're going to meet the new president, have a quiet 'yay the aliens didn't kill us' commendation ceremony and then our own party. I probably won't be back until tomorrow."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I'm fine. Not even bruised. Like I said, I sat out the fight in a time-traveling space-ship." Cisco paused and then asked, "want me to give you a call when I get back? I can give a better explanation about what happened in person. Maybe… maybe we could hang out?"

"I'd like that." Hartley glanced back at the party. "Tell Mick to call Lisa. She's been really worried about him."

"I'll pass on the message," Cisco promised. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," Hartley agreed, letting Cisco end the call. He checked his phone for messages before heading back inside.

_Glad you're okay. Take tomorrow off, don't worry about losing PTO over it either. Have a good weekend. See you Monday._

Dr. McGee was an infinitely better boss than evil Wells ever was.

* * *

Hartley woke up around 10:45 Friday morning and nearly had a panic attack until he remembered that Dr. McGee gave him the day off because he spent yesterday fighting aliens. Sometimes Hartley looks at his life and wonders when it turned into one of those cheap SyFy made-for-TV movies with the super crappy CGI that Cisco loved to subject him to on movie nights.

(He will never forgive Cisco for making him sit all the way through _Sharknado_ – twice! – back when he was still a pipeline 'resident'. But, for whatever reason, movie nights continued after Hartley was secreted out of the Pipeline by Barry and even after evil Wells died and it was safe for Hartley to start living his life again. Hartley blamed it on a combination of Stockholm Syndrome and how adorable Cisco looked when he was trying to convince Hartley that a movie with a plot that amounted to _Snakes on a Plane_ set on a submarine was actually worth watching... _Sea Snakes_ was another abomination for which Cisco would never be forgiven.)

Instead of getting up, Hartley checks his phone – a message from Lisa telling him that Ray and Sara's phones were stolen by the aliens but Mick has no excuse, a message from one of his co-workers asking if he's a superhero (Hartley sends him back a text asking if he really believed Hartley has the personality of a 'superhero'; maybe he should just keep his weird conspiracy theories to himself and get back to work), and a text from Dr. McGee asking Hartley if he'd thought the official government cover-up of 'sudden massive satellite failures across the globe' was stupid. (Dr. McGee got a text back asking if she'd ever heard of something called Sunnydale Syndrome.)

Only then did Hartley get up, but just long enough to use the bathroom and drink some water. Then he was back in bed, setting his alarm for noon, and fluffing his pillow. He still ached from being flung into buildings by aliens and he didn't have work; the siren song of just a little bit more sleep called to him…

RINGRINGRINGRINGRING

Hartley picked up the phone, stared at the caller-id for a long moment, and then answered. "Hey Cisco, back already?"

"Yup. I have a couple of things to take care of at STAR Labs, but do you want to meet up for lunch?"

"Sure." Hartley paused a moment, and then said, "you might want to call Dr. McGee and let her know everyone is okay. She wasn't happy about being left in the dark about the aliens either."

"Is it horrible that sometimes I forget she knows about the whole Team Flash thing?" Cisco mused. Then, "oh, god, don't tell her I said that."

Hartley laughed. "So, when and where do you want to meet up?"

"Uh… Big Belly Burger and I guess whenever you get off for lunch."

"Unlike you, my boss gave me the day off for fighting aliens."

"I… that…" Cisco made a frustrated noise and Hartley snickered at him.

"I was asleep until about ten minutes before you called, so that was actually really good timing on your part," Hartley added, just to rub it in.

"You suck," Cisco grumbled. "I want a day off for fighting aliens."

"This is what happens when you declare yourself a superhero," Hartley cackled with amusement. "Heroes don't get days off."

"If I'm a superhero, what does that make you?" Cisco mused, definitely pouting.

"A vaguely reformed super-villain," Hartley replied immediately. "As opposed to a mostly reformed super-villain like Rory. Did he ever call Lisa?" He assumed so, based on her message, but it could have easily been that someone else called in Mick's stead.

"Yes. And she yelled at him for a long time, guilted him over being her only family left with her brother dead… which, I didn't know Snart was dead." Cisco sounded a little upset over that.

"I thought you did," Hartley said quietly. "Lisa was a wreck over it, so I figured she called you… or at least drunk called you. Huh… how did I merit getting drunk called by Lisa over you?"

"Question of the ages; could have to do with that one time Cold kidnapped Caitlin and strapped her to a bomb. Or maybe that time they kidnapped me and froze Dante's hands," Cisco deadpanned. "Anyway, eventually Mick handed the phone over to me so she could chew me out for not warning her about the aliens and not returning your calls. Did you seriously have to complain to her about that?"

"Yes. It was obnoxious that in the middle of an alien crisis you couldn't be bothered to check your damn phone."

"Because you were worried about me?" Cisco sounded amused, but not exactly teasing.

Tentatively, Hartley replied, "yes."

"I promise the next time I'm off being a superhero, I'll do a better job of returning your calls," Cisco promised.

"You'd better," Hartley muttered, rolling his eyes. Because of course Cisco risking his life was going to become a recurring event.

"You could always come back to STAR Labs and keep an eye on me in person."

"I..." the offer was actually kind of appealing. "I'll keep that in mind," Hartley finally allowed.

"Anyway, how about you just head over to STAR Labs and we can head out when you arrive. I may not have the whole day off, but my afternoon is free. We could watch _Sharknado 2_."

"It's like you want me to drop the 'vaguely reformed' part from the 'super-villain'. I'm pretty sure we established the _Sharknado_ movies constitute torture, Cisco."

Cisco laughed again. "Okay, okay, terrible choice. How about you pick the movie?"

"It won't be hard to pick something better than _Sharknado_ ," Hartley muttered, sliding out of bed and padding into the living room to check his DVD collection. "Have you ever seen _Charade_?" he asked after a moment of contemplation.

"Not ringing any bells," Cisco said after a long moment.

"Seriously? Now you have to see it. It stars Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant. I can't believe you've never seen it." Hartley plucked the movie out and stuck it on top of the PS3. "That's just… there aren't words for what a tragedy it is you've never _Charade_."

Cisco laughed. "Is this how I sound when people admit to never seeing my favorite movies?"

"You're far worse." Actually, yes, that was exactly what Cisco sounded like, but Hartley felt justified in saying Cisco was worse since Cisco had more 'favorite' movies than Hartley did.

"So, what's it about?"

"Hepburn's character – Reggie – learns that her husband died while she was away on vacation and ends up drawn into an absurd whodunit involving stolen money and spies. It's a comedy; the bantering between Hepburn and Grant is just priceless and is what really makes the movie. There was a remake with a different title that tried to play the whole thing seriously and it's just awful." Hartley paused and then added quietly, "I used to watch _Charade_ with Jerrie all the time before… before I got disowned."

"Well, from what you've told me about your sister, she has excellent taste. So I'm sure I'll love the movie," Cisco assured him.

"Right, well… I suppose I ought to actually get dressed in something not my pajamas –"

"Rub it in, why don't you," Cisco muttered.

"– so I'll do that and then head over to STAR Labs. We can head out for burgers from there whenever you're finished with whatever it is you're stuck working on. See you soon."

"Yeah… see you."

Hartley ended the call and returned to his bedroom, opting for a comfortable pair of jeans and then turned to stare at the shirts. He had a few non-work shirts… the sort of t-shirts that Cisco thought Hartley would never own or at least never voluntarily wear (which explained the absolute glee on Cisco's face when he gave Hartley a Ravenclaw t-shirt for his birthday… little did Cisco know that Hartley now wore that shirt practically every other weekend). Grinning impishly, Hartley donned the Ravenclaw shirt and a black zip-up hoodie. A pair of socks and shoes later, Hartley was good to go.

He paused, though, when he glanced in the mirror. He looked… happy. Ridiculously happy. The sort of happy he hadn't felt since he was a kid, before he realized that the reason he paid so much attention to Jack Sawyer was because he had a crush. (Realizing he had a crush had been nice for about five seconds before he realized that if his parents found out he'd either be forcibly relocated to a conversion therapy camp or disowned, and from that point on he'd lived in a state of near constant terror that they'd figure it out. There wasn't a lot of room for 'happy' under those circumstances.)

Somehow, Cisco made him smile in a way Hartley couldn't remember doing for years – that he'd almost managed on the day he'd defeated the time wraith when he'd let himself believe that it was a good day and nothing could go wrong and he'd finally reconnect with his parents like he'd hoped for so long. Instead he'd ended the day drunk calling Cisco from his apartment complaining about how his newly-wed neighbors were interrupting his 'life sucks' self-pity party with their marathon sex. (At which point Cisco invited himself over and made Hartley drink coffee and watch _Star Wars:_ the originals, not the horrid prequels. He'd fallen asleep on Cisco's shoulder, waking in his bed the next – late – morning with a surprisingly not-so-bad hangover and Cisco asleep on his couch.)

"No… no, no, no..." Hartley sat down heavily on his bed. He liked Cisco. More than liked him. But Cisco had seen Hartley at his worst and it was a miracle they were even friends. How had he not noticed what his feelings were when he started treasuring a t-shirt of all things? "I'm an idiot," Hartley sighed.

But he was an idiot with a platonic lunch and movie date, so it was time to get going.

* * *

"You're wearing a t-shirt." Cisco stared at Hartley, clearly dumbfounded.

"I don't have work today," Hartley tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, Spock-style, "so why would I feel the need to wear work attire?"

"Is… that the shirt I gave you for your birthday?"

"Yes." When Cisco continued to just sit there and stare, Hartley frowned and glanced over at Barry, who was snickering into his hand. "I think I broke him."

"Just give him a few minutes to let his brain finish rebooting," Barry advised. "I guess none of us have actually seen you dress casually of your own choosing before. Anyway, I gotta run. I'm meeting Iris for lunch. Apparently she's impressed her boss with a write up on the Pied Piper and the Golden Glider saving a rescue shelter for cute, fuzzy animals from aliens yesterday. Someone sent pictures of it to her old blog."

Hartley swore, in Latin. There were pictures of that?

"I'm guessing that was rude, but I haven't the foggiest what you just said. See you guys later," Barry said cheerfully before flashing away.

"You saved puppies from aliens?" Cisco grinned, walking around and beaming at Hartley in a way that made his chest feel all warm inside.

"Maybe? We were all kind of all over the place and, yeah, um… we probably did at least pass by..." he trailed off, looking for a way to change the subject because he hadn't just passed by the shelter, he'd run in and knocked an alien away from a girl who worked there and happened to have the ability to understand most animals. They volunteered at the same Freespace shelter sometimes and while he didn't exactly count her as a friend, he'd wanted to be sure she'd survive the attack in one piece. "So… seems like you and Barry are back on good terms?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Cisco hesitated for a moment before completely slumping, leaning his forehead against Hartley's shoulder.

Hartley wondered how it was Cisco couldn't hear the way his heart was thundering in his chest.

"I screwed up with Barry. Like… major screwed up."

"Barry doesn't seem upset," Hartley ventured when Cisco went quiet.

"When Dante died, I asked Barry to go back in time and save him and he said no." Cisco paused a moment, letting that sink in, before barreling on. "He was giving me space and then suddenly he wasn't because apparently he'd traveled in time three months earlier to save his parents but then did it again, undoing saving his parents, because he'd changed things for the worse for everyone else and wanted to fix it all. Only it wasn't all the same because Dante was dead and I should have realized that Barry had no idea Dante was dead after all the time traveling, but I just wanted to stop being angry at him… but then when I did realize that Dante hadn't died in the other timeline I got pissed at him all over again because he'd be alive if Barry hadn't fucked with the timeline. Then… yesterday I traveled back in time to the fifties during the first incursion from the Dominators. We were just going to capture and question one, but then everything went to hell and I suggested that we rescue the Dominator and try prove that we weren't all horrible people deserving of being destroyed. Only, when we came back to the present, the Dominators were demanding we hand over Barry or else they'd set off a bomb over Central City meant to wipe out the biggest concentration of meta-humans on the planet and saving that one Dominator… might've actually made things worse. I was just trying to do the right thing and… so was Barry. He made a stupid mistake and compounded it in trying to make up for it and I've been a horrible dick to him about it. I even said we weren't friends anymore. To his face."

"Obviously Barry didn't hand himself over to the Dominators, so what happened?"

"He was going to."

"He does have something of a martyr complex," Hartley observed, tentatively petting Cisco's hair since Cisco was still leaning against his shoulder.

"We all told him we wouldn't let him sacrifice himself like that and… I told him he wasn't just a hero, he's my friend."

"And… then everyone went with plan B: fight the aliens, transmute the bomb, make the aliens go away, and then party?"

"Pretty much." Cisco sighed. "I don't know how to apologize. It's… it was never really Barry's fault for Dante's death. It was the drunk driver who hit him."

Hartley took advantage of the situation by continuing to pet Cisco's hair as he thought it all over. "I'm going to say something that I think you probably don't want to hear, but… I'm gonna say it anyway. Before the temporal shenanigans came to light, are you really sure it was Barry you were angry with? Or was he a convenient target so you wouldn't have to deal with the fact that you didn't vibe Dante's death before it happened?"

Cisco pulled away with a scowl. "You're right. I really didn't want to hear that."

"I'm not saying that's what you were doing but… generally when I'm an unreasonable asshole to someone it's because I'm projecting my own issues onto that person so that I don't have to deal with it. Kind of like I did with you when we first met."

"Are you apologizing?"

"You made me watch _Sharknado_ while I was a literal captive audience in the pipeline. Twice. Also, there was that one time you left Rick Astley on repeat for an hour. I don't think I need to apologize at this point; you've gotten far more than your fair share of revenge." Hartley rolled his eyes when Cisco smirked.

"Well, setting aside whether I was projecting my feelings or not… I could use some advice on how to fix things with Barry."

"He seems pretty normal about everything. I mean, there was more weirdness after his time-jump that apparently prevented me from going on a second rampage and he still let me give him a hand up after the time wraith was disappeared. He's a generally laid back and forgiving guy. Do you really need to do anything other than get back to what's normal with you two?"

"So… like, movie night with the _Wrath of Khan_?"

"I still think its weird that you two use my first slash ship as a testament to your friendship."

Cisco giggled. "I always shipped Spock and McCoy. The bickering, the UST…"

"Anyway..." Hartley felt his cheeks heat up from the way Cisco was looking at him and he tried to tell himself that he wasn't blushing. It wasn't really working.

"Lunch? Then back to your place?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Hartley could quote along to _Charade_ the same way Cisco could quote along with every _Star Trek_ movie. So, when they settled onto the couch together, Hartley started saying his favorite lines along with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn to Cisco's surprised delight.

The funeral was probably Hartley's favorite scene in the movie, as the potential murder suspects each came in to 'pay their respects' in increasingly disrespectful ways while Reggie and her friend commented on how empty the funeral was and how if Charles hadn't been murdered they wouldn't have even had the Inspector there.

It was fun listening to Cisco guess who the killer was (wrong, wrong, wrong every time, to Hartley's increasing amusement) and Cisco's giggling at the ridiculous situations, like the fully clothed shower scene. ("It's drip dry." Hartley cackled with laughter, barely managing to say the words along with Cary Grant.) Somehow they ended up leaning against each other in the middle of the couch, Hartley curled up against Cisco's shoulder and suddenly Cisco's arm was around his waist…

Hartley's mind whirled. Should he say anything? Did Cisco even realize what he was doing?

"Is this okay?" Cisco asked, having noticed the way Hartley froze up.

"Yes." Hartley looked up and flushed as Cisco smiled at him, rubbing Hartley's hip with his thumb. "Cisco..." he didn't know what to say, eyes flicking to Cisco's lips and then back up to his eyes, certain that any moment Cisco would remember this was Hartley, asshole extraordinaire…

Cisco leaned down, hesitating a moment to give Hartley the chance to pull away, then pressed a chaste kiss against Hartley's lips. As Reggie marched into the American Embassy, Hartley chased Cisco's kiss with one of his own, melting into Cisco's touch.

Pulling away, Hartley rested his head against Cisco's shoulder again. "Maybe I should pick our movies more often if this is the result," Hartley muttered, a little breathless, while Cisco hummed softly in agreement, pressing a kiss against Hartley's forehead.

"So… um… I've been wanting to do that for a while," Cisco told him, cupping Hartley's face and running his thumb lightly along Hartley's lower lip.

Hartley let out a soft whine at the touch. "Me too," which was true, even if he hadn't let himself understand that until today. "I just..." he pulled away, sitting up. "You've seen me at my worst. You vibed what my plans were in that other timeline. How can you… why would you..."

"You've changed, Hart."

The nickname didn't give Hartley warm-fuzzies. At all. Except that it did.

"You've proven yourself capable of being better than that… of choosing to be better than that." Cisco took one of Hartley's hands in his own. "I'd really like to kiss you again."

Hartley considered a few different ways to respond to that declaration, settling on capturing Cisco's mouth with a kiss, letting himself be pulled onto the other man's lap and wondering – hopefully – if maybe kissing could turn into something else… though not until after lots of kissing happened first because, damn, Cisco could kiss.

(Much, much later, Hartley checked the messages on his phone again to find that, yes, Dr. McGee knew exactly what Sunnydale Syndrome referred to and that she didn't think 'gangs on PCP' were going to cut it to explain away pictures of aliens on the streets of Central City.)


End file.
